


I'd like to explore you

by rainbowsuomi



Category: The Hour
Genre: F/F, F/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:13:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowsuomi/pseuds/rainbowsuomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lix’s mind is already somewhere else when Bel tells her to think about it and exits the office, picturing herself in front of the camera, describing bars where girls had their hair cropped and styled with grease, smoking cigars and slipping their hands, elegant, long and white, under flowing, frilly skirts, caressing stockings and corrupting young ladies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd like to explore you

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Come back Margaret" by Camera Obscura; as usual, unbeta'd. Comments are very much welcome!

Cigarette smoke fills the offices; the heat and the still intense early September sun filter through the windows and the smokey fog. The atmosphere is dense, suffocating and oppressive. Sweat, tobacco and paper are the aromas in the air.

Lix is sitting down at her desk, and contributes to the opaque blanket dominating the building with a drag to her cigarette. She coughs discreetly, and resumes in her typing. She stops, another drag, and starts again, the cycle going on for hours

The sound of a never static life comes from outside her office, frantic voices giving orders, the ladies’ heels clicking in sync with their quick steps, ithe bubbling of the kettle, the typewriters – tac tac tac tac tac tac tac tac dling! Straaaap.

Someone knocks at the door, and Bel enters, a Northern goddess in red; she strides, so sure of herself, and stops in front of Lix, her desk separating them .

“Heard about Wolfenden?”

Lix inhales deeply, lips on her cigarette, licks her lips absentmindedly and exhales, her motions calm, almost lazy. The office’s frenzy doesn’t touch her in the least.

“No. Enlighten me, sweetheart.”

“Depenalization of male homosexuality.” Bel hands her a sheet of paper with the important bits of the piece of news, and continues, “Hear this: ‘homosexual behaviour between consenting adults in private should no longer be a criminal offence’ – Hell is going to break loose. Give it a couple of days.”

She leans on Lix’s desk, her posture emphasazing her rear and her full breasts.

The older woman takes the sheet in her free hand, and scans the contents. She feels directly involved, even though she is not. In front of her, Bel’s breasts are quite distracting.

“We should invite one of them on the show – you know, a homosexual.” Bel hesitates a bit. She plays the part of the strong, independent woman, her mind spread open, but there are certain words – that one being one of those – that still feel forbidden and uncomfortable, heavy on the tongue; Lix feels something shatter, a possibility, a hypothetical return to the past. Hypothetical, because she’s past her juvenile hedonism. She still wears trousers, but that’s the only hint left of a past of caressing milky, smooth skin and carding her fingers through long, silky locks.

Bel tucks her lush hair, pure gold in the late summer light, behind her ear, and Lix is enraptured by the simple, breathtaking beauty of the gesture. Maybe for too long, because Bel catches her staring and says “Lix? You there?”

“Yeah, yeah.”, she takes another drag from her cigarette, with the hope of it giving her back some composure, “We should, definetely. Brilliant idea, darling.”

Lix’s mind is already somewhere else when Bel tells her to think about it and exits the office, picturing herself in front of the camera, describing bars where girls had their hair cropped and styled with grease, smoking cigars and slipping their hands, elegant, long and white, under flowing, frilly skirts, caressing stockings and corrupting young ladies.

But who would care?

Women, the eternal social outcasts – even when regarding debauchery.

She stubs her cigarette almost angrily in the glass ashtray on her desk, goes out of her office, and here she is again. In all her luminous glory, right in front of her, Bel, laughing loudly with Freddie. Her full, red lips are stretched wide, and her laugh is so shamelessly honest and child-like. She wonders when the two will finally open their eyes and see their own blinding love for each other.

She sighs, lights herself another cigarette, and goes to make herself a cup of tea.


End file.
